


高考

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), M/M, Sugar Baby Xu Minghao, Teacher Wen Junhui
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 17:04:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14024739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: fuck/fʌk/vulgar slangverb1. have sexual intercourse with (someone).2. damage or ruin (something).noun1. an act of sexual intercourse.exclamation1. used alone or as a noun or verb in various phrases to express annoyance, contempt, or impatience.





	高考

**Author's Note:**

> please note that i am not CHINA chinese; i've never taken the gaokao. i've tried researching it, but the internet failed me, so...forgive me.
> 
> also, please study for your exams this will not happen in real life

minghao is quite literally fucked. in all senses of the word.

 

“ah, fuck, xukun—please—” minghao’s words taper off into a sob. “so good—” minghao pushes his ass back, wanting  _ more _ , when his phone suddenly starts vibrating from its once dormant place on the bed.

 

_ incoming call from  _ **_baby♡_ **

 

“wait—xukun—” minghao says breathily. “seokmin’s calling.”

 

the older but nonetheless attractive man snorts, pushing himself off minghao. “suit yourself, ming,” he says, eyes lazily falling close.

 

“what’s wrong, min? you know i always skip monday,” minghao says as he picks up, pushing his hair out of his eyes. he frowns; it  _ is _ getting quite a bit long, isn’t it? maybe he’ll ask xukun to bring him out for a haircut later—

 

“ _ no, you idiot, _ ” seokmin’s voice comes tinny from his speaker. “the goddamn gaokao is in fifteen minutes and you’re  _ not here _ .”

 

minghao’s eyes widen. “it’s  _ today _ ?” he screeches, falling down the bed in his haste. “no, you ass. it’s tomorrow,” seokmin snorts, and minghao can almost see him rolling his eyes. “what do you think?”

 

“fuck you—i’m coming, please don’t leave me alone outside,” minghao says. he takes out one of the uniforms he’s stashed in xukun’s closet. "yeah, yeah," seokmin snorts. "hurry up."

 

“come back to bed, baby,” xukun’s sleep-glazed voice sounds from the bed. “you think i don’t want to?” minghao snorts bitterly. “i know you’re old, xukun, but you must know how important the gaokao is.”

 

xukun flicks him off. “i’m only five years older than you, ming. it was still around then. come on, i’ll take you. ”

* * *

  
  


by some stroke of luck—or a fucking miracle, minghao doesn’t care—he manages to get to his school on time. the teachers outside the school hall blink at the expensive car xukun drives, but lets him pass anyway.

 

seokmin does  _ not _ wait for him like he said he would, but minghao didn’t think he would in the first place. no matter how tough seokmin acts, he’s still a good kid. minghao is jealous sometimes.

 

he slips into the hall just as the chief invigilator, some fat balding old guy, is rattling off the horribly mundane rules. honestly, who doesn’t know that they can’t cheat?

 

seokmin smiles at him as he lopes to his designated seat.  _ you made it _ , he mouths, and minghao grins back, albeit a little guiltily. he breathes a sigh of relief when the chief fart only gives him a stink-eye and smiles tightly at him as he sits.

 

minghao’s face burns hot when he feels some mystery fluid wetting his briefs and running down the back of his thigh. he puts his face in his hands, muttering a prayer to any god that’ll listen.

 

“you may begin,” the man says, and minghao lifts his head to see the other students collectively flipping over the thin stack of papers on their desks. minghao follows suit, blanching at the sight of the subject—mathematics—written in bold, block letters on the first page

 

he flips the page and reads the first question:

 

  1. > A tetrahedron’s edge length is √2 and its four points are on a sphere, so what is the sphere’s area?




 

what.

 

minghao blinks owlishly at the question. he looks at the next one.

  1. > Given f (x) = sinx - (2sqrt(3))(sin^2(pi/2)), find f(x)’s smallest positive revolution




what the fuck.

 

he glances up, seeing his schoolmates already writing. he nods to himself; right, he should write too.

 

he doesn’t have a pen.

 

minghao stares at his hands, lips pursed because  _ how could he be this dumb? _

 

that’s when the first piece of paper falls on his desk, along with a pen.

 

_ rub your right eye if you need help again. _

 

  1. __c__
  2. _b_
  3. _c_
  4. _d_
  5. _a_
  6. _a_
  7. _d_
  8. _b_
  9. _d_
  10. _c_



 

 

* * *

 

junhui wonders if he’s trying to get himself fired three months into the job.

 

he doesn’t know why he’s helping the kid. maybe it’s because he’s cute, button nose and big doe eyes peeking out from long lashes. or maybe it’s because he sympathizes with him, having took it four years ago.

 

(but why should he? he actually studied, got the best scores in shenzhen—junhui squashes the thought. useless.)

 

well, at least he can stop teaching hormonal kids barely four years younger than him and get that kindergarten job he’d wanted.

  
  


“hey, kid, time’s up,” says one of the invigilators as he raps on minghao’s desk. he has a nice voice, deep like midnight honey, but minghao pays him little heed, hands still firmly pressing his paper down as he struggles to get down the last paragraph.

 

the man sighs, as if minghao is physically hurting him. “kid, don’t fight me here, pass it up.”

minghao glowers at his papers for a moment before thrusting them to the fart’s face. only that it is a very nice face and not a typical fart’s, all caramel skin and dark eyes and pretty lips.

 

minghao immediately flushes red. “um—sorry?”

 

the invigilator— _ fart _ —snorts. “this is the first and last time, kid. don’t do this again if you want to pass.” he takes the paper and leaves, but not before he slips a small crumpled piece of paper on minghao’s desk.

 

_ find me outside later. _

 

* * *

  
  


“so? why are we here?” the boy demands, hands on his hips, though he’s still fairly cute in junhui’s eyes. or maybe he’s just biased.

 

“so you can buy me lunch in return for the answers, love,” he says smoothly. “dinner sounds good, too.”

 

the boy blinks in disbelief. “ _ you _ gave me the answers?” he asks incredulously. “i’m probably going to buy you your meals for the rest of your life and possibly kiss you.”

 

“well,” junhui laughs. he really was something. “i’m not opposed to that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> p.s. minghao and seokmin are NOT dating, they're just bffs; seokmin moved from seoul
> 
> p.p.s. minghao and xukun have a sugar baby/sugar daddy relationship, if you haven't read the tags


End file.
